"Wake up! Wake up!"
"How on earth did this guy manage to survive a night lying in the Northern Realm's snow without freezing to death? He's nearly frozen solid..."
The sky over the Northern Realm, where it's snowing, is remarkably bright.
In a daze, the Death Lord, whose consciousness was a blur, heard a woman's voice calling him. He wanted to respond, but his head throbbed with pain, as if a steel spike had been driven into his skull and was being twisted around, causing him to gasp several times. He then tried to clutch his head and curl up, only to find his body had stiffened. It took quite a struggle before he could separate his frozen clothes.
Where am I?
He thought groggily as he opened his eyes to see three figures in Northern attire standing in the snow, which was already blanketed in white. The one leading them was an older woman who squatted down with a slight frown. She waved at the Death Lord, and it seemed she was the one who had just asked him something.
